The Falcon and The Stag
by FlashFire705
Summary: Cersei has a true born son, the strength of a Baratheon and the mind of a Lannister. Jon Arryn has decided to raise his son alongside the royals. The Falcon and The Stag, friends who are closer than brothers, will face the Game of Thrones together. To the East, the Targaryens are joined by Sand Snakes, to see if they are worthy of the throne. New changes are coming to Westeros.
1. Prologue: Noble Beginnings

**Jon Arryn**

The Hand of the King, the title weighed heavily on Jon's mind. The pin that came with the title felt just as heavy like it was made out of stone instead of thin pieces of gold. In another world Jon would never have accepted the position, the Hand required skills that Jon found revolting. In a just world, Jon would instead return to the Eyrie and be given proper time to mourn his dead. But this was not a just world, and Jon would only be given moments to mourn. Jon had duties he needed to attend to, duties given to him by King Robert Baratheon himself. If the realm is to know peace, Jon must put aside his feelings.

Robert's Rebellion had destroyed most of the Targaryen loyalists, Mace Tyrell had bent the knee and any Houses in the Crownlands still loyal to the former royal House had either bent the knee or had their bloodline wiped out. All except one, House Martell of Dorne. It wasn't surprising, Elia Martell was wed to Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and had his children. And she was killed by the Lannisters for that. By now, word had reached Dorne of Elia's death and the brutal manner in which it was conducted. Jon himself was not there in Kings Landing when it happened, but he heard the rumors. Gregor Clegane had raped and murdered the Princess with his great sword while his companion, Amory Loch, killed her children. Though neither men confess exactly what happened, and their Lord Tywin was similarly tight-lipped, Jon had seen the bodies to know that the rumors were true. He could still see the bodies, wrapped in Lannister cloaks, Jon had seen many horrifying sights in the war but their bodies were truly something haunting. Jon suspected he would forever see the Princess and her children is his sleep.

King Robert had ordered him to bring Dorne into the fold, either through diplomacy or war. Jon preferred that no more blood be spilled, so he sent orders to Gulltown that a ship be prepared for the long voyage from the Vale to Dorne. He sent a raven to Prince Doran informing him that he would be transporting the bodies back to Sunspear for a proper burial, Doran had already replied that he would be waiting. Jon had already sent the bodies of Elia and her children ahead, the only thing stopping the voyage was Jon himself. Jon had his own bodies to attend to.

Laid out in front of him, in a small and private sept within the Eyrie, lay the bodies of his nephew, Elbert Arryn, and his wife, Lady Alla Tollett. Both had Silent Sisters working on them, painting stones to resemble their eyes. Elbert, his nephew, and heir, Jon had such high hopes for him. For years it seemed that the future of House Arryn lay with Elbert, all of Jon's marriages never resulted in children. Or at least, children that survived their first days in the world.

He was supposed to be the future of House Arryn, and how he lays in the ancestral home of his House being prepared for burial. Jon stood in his spot, allowing himself to cry as the Sisters prepared Elbert. He brought a hand up to his eyes and wiped away the tears, bringing his emotions back under control. He walked at a slow, deliberate pace until he arrived at the body of his late wife.

His marriage to Lady Alla Tollett was not a warm one, Jon had married her purely out of desperation to continue the Arryn line. There was no love between them, only duty. Still, Jon could not help but mourn her. In the short time that they were married, she became pregnant. And the birth of the child is why she lay dead.

Jon left the room, leaving the Silent Sisters to continue their work. He journeyed to his private chambers, desperate to see his child before he left for Dorne. Yohn Royce stood guard outside, nodding to Jon as he approached. Yohn gently opened the door, careful not to wake the infant inside. Jon stepped inside, he walked towards the crib that was placed next to Jon's bed. He looked into it and saw a sleeping baby boy, breathing quietly.

"My son, your mother should be here. She wanted you named Artys, our House's founder. I never loved your mother, but I will honor her. Artys shall be your name." Jon whispered, careful not to disturb his son's rest.

Jon silently walked out of the chamber and shut the door. He sighed, took a moment to breathe and turned to Yohn.

"If I don't come back from Dorne, I want you to raise my son. Foster him, teach him how to swing a sword, and how to rule." Jon said.

"As you command, my lord." Yohn responded with.

Jon soon left the Eyrie for Gulltown, uncertain of what his future was. However, Jon did survive his trip and Dorne bent the knee. Jon returned to the Eyrie, where he wedded Lysa Tully at the urging of Lord Hoster Tully. Jon then decided to bring his family with him to Kings Landing, to raise alongside the royal family.

* * *

**283 A.C.**

**Cersei Lannister**

The pain was unbearable, it felt like her insides were being torn apart. Cersei gave another push, and another wave of pain hit her. Unlike Joffrey, her current labor lasted only 12 hours. And now here she was pushing her latest child into the world. An army of midwives were present, holding Cersei down in the birthing process.

Grand Maester Pycelle examined her "One more push, your Grace."

"I can't, I can't." Cersei muttered, her voice sounding weak.

"Yes, you can. Now one more push sister." Jaime squeezed her hand, as if to give her more strength.

Cersei gave last push, letting out a terrible scream as she did. Then another voice joined hers, a baby's voice. Cersei collapsed onto her bed, taking deep and frequent breaths. Her baby continued to scream, Cersei gathered her remaining strength and stretched out her arms, to take her child into her embrace. Her child quieted immediately, smiling up to its mother. Cersei looked down at her child, and her drew in a sharp breath. Blue eyes stared up to her emerald eyes. Cersei undid the blanket covering her child's head and found black hair underneath.

"A boy, your Grace. The king has another son." Pycelle said.

'A son of Robert's, I've given Robert a son' Cersei thought in disbelief.

She looked down at her son, and smiled. Even though she had nothing but disgust and hatred for Robert, she could not bring herself to feel the same about her son. She turned head to Jaime and nodded, letting him know she was going to keep the child. Jaime bowed his head, and squeezed Cersei's hand one last time before leaving the room. Cersei could feel her eyes growing heavy, so she handed her son to a midwife and watched as the midwife placed her son into a crib. Cersei drifted off to a deep sleep.

Cersei awoke the next morning, light streaming into her room. She noticed the pelt of some wild stag laying at the feet of her bed. Robert has returned from his hunt. Cersei lifted herself up and sat in her bed. Cersei's eyes widen in surprise when saw Robert holding their son his arms and singing softly, it was the happiest Cersei had ever seen Robert. Not even Joffrey's birth got such a response from Robert. For a brief second, Cersei's feelings towards Robert thawed. Only to hardened again a moment later.

"What shall we name him?" Cersei asked softly, her voice still weak from the birth.

"Lyonel, after my ancestor." Robert replied, placing their son back into his crib.

'Lyonel, a name befitting the grandson of the mighty lion of House Lannister.' Cersei thought.

"A wonderful name, my husband." Cersei agreed.

'I love our son Robert, but he'll be OUR only son. From this day forth we will never have another child' Cersei vowed to herself.

And Cersei stayed true to her vow, all her subsequent children came from Jaime and not Robert. And if Robert ever managed to separate himself from his whores and wine, if ever managed to stumble into Cersei's bed. Then she would never allow him between her legs, she would take care of him other ways.

Although her marriage to Robert remained cold at best, Cersei did noticed subtle change in Robert. He slept with less whores and servants, drank less as well. He still drank and slept around a lot, he just did it less than before. He also spent more time with his family, not much more than he did before but it was enough to be noticeable. Cersei couldn't help but feel anger towards Robert, that it was the son who looked the most like him that changed Robert and not his supposed first born.

Cersei still loved Lyonel, and a mother's love can never go away.


	2. Prologue: The Game Begins

**Lyonel Baratheon**

**298 A.C.**

Lyonel swung his sword downwards to meet his uncle Jaime's, grunting as Jaime held his sword in place. Lyonel jumped back, Jaime did not follow. Instead, Jaime held his ground and twirled his blade, chuckling while he did so. Lyonel sidestepped to his left, trying to spot a weakness in his uncle's defenses. Lyonel thrusted his sword towards Jaime's right shoulder, before quickly switching to a backward slash aimed at the left ribs. Jaime anticipated this and blocked Lyonel's slash, he then slammed his shoulder into Lyonel's chest. Lyonel stumbled back, with a vertical slash from Jaime sending his practice sword flying out of his hands. Lyonel held his hands up in surrender.

Lyonel and Jaime had been sparring in a private courtyard within the Red Keep since lunch, stopping only to drink or to relieve themselves. After hours of sparring, both men were aching in their bones and muscles. But Lyonel kept insisting they spar, and Jaime continued to oblige the prince. Lyonel's fighting style preferred misdirection and wearing an opponent down, have them make a mistake that makes them vulnerable. The prince preferred fighting as quick and as unpredictable as possible, he felt that while brute force can win a fight, a quick man can bring down a giant.

"An excellent job, nephew. Any normal swordsman would have been beaten." Jaime said, walking over to a nearby bench and grabbing a water pouch.

"I can never seem to beat you, though." Lyonel remarked, grabbing his water pouch.

"There is only one man in all seven kingdoms that can beat me and that man is Ser Barristan." Jaime stated, throwing away his now empty water pouch.

"Yes, I've fought him many times and let's just say he's a lot more entertaining than you." Lyonel said, smirking as he did so. Jaime scowled at Lyonel's words, then he burst into laughter.

"That he is, that he is." Jaime got up and picked up both of their practice swords "Well Lyonel, as much fun I get from sparring with you, your mother was expecting me hours ago. And you know she doesn't like it when people keep her waiting."

"One of the many things my mother dislikes. Go on then." Lyonel said.

Jaime walked towards a door that led into the rest of the Red Keep, he passed by another man he walked through the door. The man continued into the courtyard and stopped in front of the bench Lyonel was sitting on, he proceeded to loudly chomp on an apple in his hand.

"My prince." The man said, mockingly as he continued to loudly devour his apple.

"Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long, Artys?" Lyonel asked, pushing himself off the bench.

"I sat there in your chambers for hours until I finally had to go and eat." The heir to the Vale said, finally finishing his apple and tossing it away.

Lyonel sighed and looked up to the sky, the sun was still setting in the sky. However, the sky had grown darker since the last time Lyonel looked at it. Suddenly, Lyonel's stomach growled. Lyonel knew he needed to eat something, but he also knew he had much more pressing business with Artys. He got off the bench and walked into the Red Keep, gesturing for Artys to follow him.

They walked silently towards Lyonel's chambers, along the way Lyonel ordered a servant to deliver him a hot meal to his chambers. They reached their destination, Artys took a seat in front of a desk while Lyonel sat behind it. He pulled out a paper, quill and some ink. Lyonel placed a cup of hot wax in front of him and the Baratheon seal off to the side.

"Have you thought about my proposal?" Lyonel asked as he began writing.

"Proposal, you mean treason." Artys bitterly stated.

"It might very well be treason, but it's for the good of the realm. If Joffrey ascends to the throne, his rule will be like the Mad King." Lyonel shot back.

"By the laws of man and gods, the Iron Throne is his birthright. You take that away, install yourself as king instead, you violate all that. The lords will never back you, you'll just be another brother seizing the throne. As so many have done before you." Artys slammed his fist down, the desk rattled in response.

Lyonel cast a cold glance at Artys, carefully reaching for a hidden dagger attached to the bottom of his desk. He had been raised alongside Artys, they were more than friends to each other, they were like brothers. More than Joffrey or Tommen ever were to Lyonel, likewise with Artys and Robert. But Lyonel would hesitate to kill Artys here and now, for what he was planning is treason. Lyonel planned on deposing his brother Joffrey, and install himself as king. Though not out of personal ambition, rather out of a desire to prevent the seven kingdoms from becoming a plaything of Joffrey. Unlike many in King's Landing, Lyonel plays the game of thrones for selfless reasons, though is still as ruthless as any other player.

"The lords of Westeros might care who sits on the Iron Throne at first, but after I've won, they won't care how I got there." Lyonel said, gripping the dagger. "Artys, I make them certain offers in return for their support."

"Yes, that part seems obvious. But how do you know their support is a guarantee, all the Houses want different things and often clash because of that. The Starks will never support you, it would be dishonorable. The Tyrells have their vines wrapped around your uncle Renly, he seems like a perfect puppet as opposed to you. And the Martells hate your family, I doubt they'll want anything to do with you." Artys said.

"Everyone has a weakness, something that can bring them to the negotiating table. My grandfather, for example, desires for Jaime to return as his heir to Casterly Rock. A dismissal from the Kingsguard and an influential marriage to Jaime and Tywin Lannister will support me. Besides as long as one of his grandsons is the king I doubt he'll mind how I got there. As for the Tyrells, they've always been insecure about their place in Highgarden. Other Houses than theirs have a better claim to the castle, a royal match would expel those insecurities. I've already discussed that with Olenna Redwyne and she agrees, I am secretly betrothed to Margaery Tyrell. As for the Martells, I hand over Gregor Clegane and Amory Loch. Not a perfect solution, but it's better than nothing." Lyonel explained.

"Impressive." Artys stated.

"And now, what I need from you is the support of the Vale and an introduction to Lord Stark. You're practically family after all." Lyonel said.

"You've put me in an impossible place, if my father were here now he would be shaming me for even listening to this." Artys said.

"You've seen Joffrey's cruelty. Besides that his personality is that of a spoiled child, he is unfit to rule." Lyonel said.

Artys paused for a minute, allowing silence to envelop the room before he said "Promise me one thing, I become the Hand of the King. You're ruthless, allow me to direct that ruthlessness. We would become feared and respected."

"Done." Lyonel agreed without hesitation.

"All right then, let's go commit treason." Artys got up from his chair and walked over to the door, opening it. He spotted a servant girl rounding a corner with a tray full of meat pies, pear cakes and a jug of water. He moved aside as the servant placed the food on Lyonel's desk, turning towards Artys.

"My lord, your father, and Lord Stannis have returned from their trip in King's Landing. Your father is requesting your presence right now." The servant girl said.

"Of course he is." Artys nodded towards Lyonel, who nodded back. A silent conversation between the two.

Artys left, Lyonel proceded to eat his dinner. Smiling at being brought closer to his goal.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

As you might have noticed, I change the title. This new title, to me at least, makes it clear what the story is focused on. Artys Arryn and Lyonel Baratheon.


	3. Prologue: The Silent Sisters

**Lyonel Baratheon**

Jon Arryn was dead, after a sudden fever the man had taken his last breath. Lyonel could not understand it, Jon was in perfect health and to suddenly die is most suspicious. However, Lyonel could not dwell on those thoughts, he had a family to comfort. His father had chosen the throne room to be the place where Jon Arryn's body would be laid out and prepared by the Silent Sisters. Usually, the family of the deceased would be present to greet fellow mourners, but only Artys was in here. Jon's wife, Lysa Tully, and his second son, Robert, were locked away in their chambers. Lysa didn't want anything to do with Jon, apparently, as she was currently breastfeeding Robert. Leaving Artys alone to carry out funeral preparations.

Lyonel stood at the massive doors to the throne room, off to the side and behind a stone column. King Robert stood at the base of the throne, next to Artys. Robert silently wept at the sight of the man who was a second father to him. Lyonel felt a pang of anger that his father was showing such feelings to Jon Arryn, as opposed to his mother or brothers or sister. Lyonel knew that he was the favorite child, the favorite family member period. Robert spent more time with Lyonel, took him out on hunts, ate dinner with him the most when Robert was sober enough and was more open about his affections towards Lyonel.

Lyonel had seen Robert display other emotions, he had been happy when Lyonel started training with a sword, pride when Lyonel killed a boar on his first hunt and had an interest in Lyonel's education and upbringing. As opposed to his other children, sure he played with Tommen and Myrcella. He gifted them with toys and expensive clothing, but he never really took an interest in them. He never learned that Tommen had taken an interest in hawk breeding, or that Myrcella had taken to reading Dornish history. The only time he took an active interest in Tommen or Myrcella was when Joffrey caused them trouble, like when Joffrey butchered Tommen's cat or when he punched Myrcella when she refused to give him her dessert.

Though, Lyonel speculated, perhaps Joffrey committed those deeds out of a partial desire for father to give him attention. Joffrey was still cruel, but there was no denying a hint of desperation in his actions, a cry for father. Joffrey wanted father to be proud of him, maybe that's why he does such violent actions. The history books speak of father's great deeds during the war, of how he killed his enemies with a giant warhammer. Joffrey may simply be mixing his cruel impulses with what he thinks will make father proud. Perhaps if father had paid more attention to Joffrey instead of Lyonel, things would be different. Perhaps if their situations would be reversed, Lyonel would be the insecure one and Joffrey a better prince.

Lyonel returned his thoughts to the present and saw that his father was still weeping over Jon Arryn's corpse. Another ring of anger echoed throughout Lyonel, he just wanted to walk over to his father and yell at him, be a better father. Then guilt overtook Lyonel, guilt that he was getting angry over the death of his friend's father. Artys was a brother to him, and here he was getting angry over Jon. Lyonel stared at the ground for a long time, gathering himself.

Lyonel walked over to Artys, placing a comforting hand onto his shoulder. Artys jumped a little as if being snapped out of a trance. He wiped away a tear from his eyes before he leaned into Lyonel's touch. Lyonel brought Artys into a hug, Artys returned the hug. They stood like that for minutes before Artys stirred and slowly moved out of the hug.

"Father, may we speak in private?" Lyonel asked.

At this Robert stirred, he cleared his throat. "Yes, of course. I'm sure the small council has a small trivial matter to discuss or something.".

Robert walked away, his steps were faint but determined. Artys and I stepped closer to the Iron Throne, we turned away from the people currently in the throne room.

"I-I don't know what to say. Your pain is my pain." Lyonel said.

"I know, I know. You don't need to say anything." Artys said.

"No, I don't suppose I do." Lyonel responded with.

Lyonel walked over to Jon's body and muttered a prayer. Artys joined him in his prayer.

"What happens now?" Lyonel asked after he finished the prayer.

"I don't know, I guess I take my father's body back to the Eyrie. Rule from there." Artys responded.

"Sounds like you'll be leaving King's Landing." Lyonel said.

"I don't want to, Lyonel. But I have to, Lysa is insane and Robert is too young to rule. I have to leave you behind, I-I-I can't. Please, Lyonel I can't go. I can't leave you, you're the only family I have left. I can't leave that." Artys was the edge of a panic attack, he gripped Lyonel shoulders so tightly bruises might be forming.

Lyonel gently placed a hand on Artys's chest and pushed him off. Lyonel, in turn, grabbed Artys's shoulders. As if to lend strength to Artys.

"Focus on me, breathe." Lyonel said. They both took some time, taking deep breaths before Artys managed to collect himself.

"Lyonel, promise me one thing. That we'll always be brothers, no matter what. Promise me we'll always be brothers." Artys asked a whispered tone that held back a wave of desperation within him.

"I promise, brothers to the end." Lyonel took Artys into an embrace as if to convey something that was better unsaid between the two.

"Pardon me, my son. I come to pay my respects to Artys here." Lyonel left his embrace and turned around to see his mother, Cersei Lannister, standing behind him.

"Your Grace." Artys bowed before Cersei.

Cersei waved her hand aside "Now is not the time for that, you're in grief."

"If that is what the Queen insists." Artys said.

"It is." Lyonel had gotten used to his mother's lies, but this was not one of them. Genuine concern etched across her face, like her mask was slipping just a little at this moment. It puzzled Lyonel to no end as to why his mother was having these emotions right now.

"Lyonel, Go eat dinner. I'll stay with Artys." Cersei said.

Lyonel looked to Artys, who nodded in response, giving him permission to leave. Lyonel wondered what his mother wanted from Artys, he would have to ask later when it was a better time.

"I'll be right back." Lyonel said.

Lyonel returned an hour later and remained with Artys for the remainder of the service. Finally, the Silent Sisters urged them to leave the room. They left and went to Artys's room.

Lyonel sat in front of a smoldering fireplace, staring into the dying embers of the fire. They seemed to spark something within him, perhaps a feeling of warmth "My fondest memory of Jon was on my tenth name day. There was a fierce storm that night, and my mother and father were on their way back from Casterly Rock. The storm scared me so much I ran into your room and threw myself onto the bed."

"I remember, I got scared because you were. If the great Lyonel Baratheon was scared of the storm then, maybe I should be too." Artys said, sitting next to Lyonel.

"And your father came in and sat both of us on his lap, he sang us a song until we fell asleep. He didn't sing it well, but it was comforting." Lyonel said.

Artys thought for a moment, recalling the song from that night. "High in the halls of the kings who are gone..." He started to sing.

"Jenny would dance with her ghosts." Lyonel continued.

The sang into the night, smiling and letting tears gently fall down their faces. When morning came, they fell asleep and were content at the memories they shared.

* * *

**Doran Martell**

His son, Quentyn, had returned from Yronwood a confident young man. Doran had sent Quentyn to House Yronwood to heal a divide created by his brother Oberyn when their lord died in a duel with the Red Viper. And now Quentyn had returned from Yronwood, with Gwyneth Yronwood as his betrothed. With their marriage, the divide between House Martell and Yronwood would be healed and Doran could focus on more pressing matters.

Doran sat on a balcony overlooking a courtyard where Quentyn was sparring with Obara Sand, a bastard cousin. Quentyn, it appeared, and taken an interest in the spear at Yronwood. Though he was nowhere near the level of skill Obara had, she had spent her entire life learning how to fight, he was still keeping pace. However, Doran knew Quentyn's strengths lie in ruling rather than fighting. He had made sure that Quentyn's time at Yronwood was dedicated to learning how to rule, how to wield the power and to a fair prince. More importantly, Doran also instilled an education on how to play the great game. The game that Westeros favors.

All in all, Quentyn would be a stable prince for Dorne, Not an ambitious one, or a glorious one, but a prince who would provide a stable life for his people. And Doran considered that more important in a ruler. There was still the problem of announcing that he intended for Quentyn to rule, as Quentyn was not Doran's heir. His eldest child and only daughter Arianne was. Arianne landed more close to what a typical Dornish person would act, as opposed to Quentyn. She still held a keen political mind and any father would be proud of her to have as their heir. But Doran had higher ambitions for her than just being the Princess of Dorne. A much higher office awaited her.

He knew that Arianne was aware that he planned on making Quentyn his heir, but she did not know why. Recently, she had taken up to ruling Sunspear whenever Doran went to the Water Gardens. Proving herself capable of rule, she was still confused as to why Doran was still clearly favoring Quentyn to take over. And it pained Doran that it had to be like this, but he was dead set on his plans.

"They are too young for this, Doran." Ellaria Sand said, standing next to Doran.

"Oberyn was only a handful of years older when he killed his first man. They won't be young forever, sooner or later they will see the dark parts of our world." Doran said.

Oberyn walked out onto the balcony and passionately kissed his paramour Ellaria.

"Areo, bring Obara and Tyene here." Doran commanded his guard captain.

They finished kissing and detached themselves from each other then Ellaria spoke "Oberyn, stop this. The children should not be sent all the way to Essos, I did not bring Obara or Tyene into this world but they are our daughters nonetheless. Please, don't send them off."

"It is entirely their choice, my love. Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken. They are Martells, they will not yield to me if they make up their mind." Oberyn embraced his lover, comforting her.

Areo Hotah returned a little later with Obara and Tyene Sand, bastard daughters of Oberyn. Obara had the classic Dornish features of her father while Tyene had the Andal features of her mother.

"You wanted to see us, Uncle" Tyene said, placing innocence in the tone of her voice. Despite this, Areo Hotah gripped his weapons tighter and intently watched both Tyene and Obara, like a hawk watching its prey.

"When the War of the Usurper ended, most of the Targaryens were killed. Most except for two, who were sent across the narrow sea to Essos. Now, years later, they are ready to return and reclaim the Iron Throne. Viserys Targaryen has promised his sister to a Dothraki warlord in exchange for his support in an invasion of Westeros." Doran said.

"Why are you telling us this?" Obara inquired.

"Because Dorne pledged its support to a Targaryen restoration. Through a marriage contract, Viserys is to wed Arianne and Dorne will declare for him." Doran said.

"Arianne? Arianne is to be queen?" Tyene asked, her concern laced her voice. Tyene and Arianne were close in age, so much so that they acted like sisters to each other, they were much closer to each other than any of their siblings.

"That still doesn't explain why you are telling us this." Obara said,

"I also plan on sending you to the Targaryens, to their service. I will not put another Mad King on the throne, not after how he treated Elia and her children. But we will still have justice for their deaths. I want you to observe the Targaryen siblings, see if they show any signs of madness and report back to me." Doran answered.

"This is entirely your choice, no one is forcing you to do anything." Oberyn spoke up.

"I'll do it, for Arianne. I will see if her husband to be is worthy of her." Tyene answered.

"Obara?" Ellaria asked, approaching her surrogate daughter.

Obara spotted her father's spear in the corner of the balcony, something flashed in her eyes, a memory.

"I made my choice long ago, for House Martell I will go." Obara finally said.

Doran nodded "Obara, you will serve as a bodyguard to Viserys. Your mission to observe his state of mind. Tyene will become a handmaiden to his sister, Daenerys. Because of you will suddenly be entering your service, you will need a way to dispel suspicions about you. Your Dornish heritage will assist in that, but there will need to be something more."

Doran gestured for a guard to bring something, the guard entered a library located next to the balcony and returned a moment later holding a crown.

"This is the crown of Rhaella Targaryen. The mother of the current Targaryen. A gift like this will go a long way to earning their trust." Doran said.

Tyene took the crown, staring at it thoughtfully.

"Your ship will leave in two days time, long enough to pick your essentials and say your farewells. In a week from then, you'll be in Pentos. In the service of the Targaryens" Doran said.

Ellaria led both girls away from the balcony and back inside, sparring only a moment to glare at Doran before walking inside.

"And so it begins brother." Oberyn said.

"And so it begins." Doran agreed.


	4. Prologue: The Lysa Problem

**Artys Arryn**

Artys had spent more time in King's Landing than he did in the Vale, due to the circumstances surrounding his father and the duties required by him. But Jon had always made sure that Artys built up the connections and interactions that would be needed when the day came for him to inherit the Eyrie and the Vale. Artys had made frequent trips into the Vale, sometimes with Lyonel and other times with his father, and made sure to build up relationships with the Lords of the Vale. Now Artys would be traveling to the Eyrie, without either of those two men. A hole had formed in his heart, he felt isolated and alone because Artys considered Lyonel and Jon his only family.

Artys was far older than his brother Robert, and Lysa was never a mother to him. She was always occupied with Robert and her delusions about him, she saw a gallant knight and a fantastic lord in her son. All Artys could see was a sickly boy who couldn't hold a sword, much less rule one of the Seven Kingdoms. Artys mused that Lysa thought of him that way, she felt that Artys was an incompetent boy who would lead the Vale to doom. He recalled an incident months ago when he overheard Lysa ranting about how Robert should be Jon's heir and not Artys, words such as disinherit and the Night's Watch were used by Lysa. But Jon stood firm with Artys as his heir, something Lysa dealt with by throwing her wine goblet onto the nearest wall.

Artys wasn't the kind of person who could hold grudges for a long time, but Lysa was an exception. Whenever Artys interacted with Lysa he had to actively fight the urge to throw her out the nearest window. He was sure that anyone who remotely knew Lysa felt the same way about her, she was intolerable. Artys didn't know why or when she became the way that she was, but he heard rumors as you do if you live in King's Landing. Some say she was jealous of her older sister and that poisoned her mind, others say she had an affair with a stable boy and a child was conceived from that affair, a child her father murdered as soon as it was born. All Artys knew was that Lysa was not always the difficult person she was in the present, he cared not why she became a difficult woman, he only cared about how he would deal with her.

The ink on the letter Artys was writing finished drying allowing Artys the action of folding it up and pouring hot wax over a small portion of the letter. Artys placed the official seal of House Arryn on the wax, taking it off once Artys was satisfied that the seal had done its job. Artys gestured for Colemon, a Maester in House Arryn's service, to take the letter.

"Make sure that gets to Ser Brynden right away, it must be the first thing he sees. In fact, send a rider ahead with the letter. I want it received at the Eyrie long before Lysa gets there." Artys ordered.

"Yes, my Lord." The Maester replied, rushing out to grab a rider loyal to Artys.

Lysa was in another part of the Red Keep, breastfeeding Robert. Artys shuddered at the thought of Lysa continuing to coddle a boy of ten, reasoning that it was why Robert was still a sickly child. As Lord Paramount of the Vale, Artys had the authority to order their separation. But Artys withheld that order for the moment, after all, he needed Lysa to be lulled into a false sense of security.

In the letter he wrote, Artys had placed specific instructions on the Lysa matter. To Brynden Tully, Lysa's uncle and a knight in House Arryn's service, Artys ordered Lysa be separated from Robert at all times. Guards were to escort them at all times, even during baths. Lysa was to be kept confined to her chambers at all hours, meals and baths would be served there and Lysa was only allowed out to relieve herself. Artys was no fool, if he left Lysa unsupervised she would do anything and everything to undermine his rule of the Vale. He knew that while some Lords of the Vale projected an image of honor, they would be more than happy if Robert ruled instead as he was easier to manipulate. He also couldn't have her interfere with his plans for Robert, it was better for everyone if Lysa was temporarily detained until Artys could deal with her later.

The plans Artys had for his brother were radical, in that it's the complete opposite of what Robert's currently doing. Lysa spoils Robert, breastfeeding being just one of the many things she indulges her son with. Robert can barely walk anywhere, much less run because Lysa forbids him from actions that she considers undignified. Artys was now ordering Ser Brynden to take over caring for the boy. Ser Brynden was to get Robert's sword training up to par with other boys his age, shift his diet towards a more healthy one, keep Lysa away from him at all times, and educate Robert properly. In short, Artys was making decisions that should have been made a long time ago. If Robert stayed his current course then he would end up no better than Joffrey, the mere thought of that happening made Artys shudder. This course correction was so that Robert could one day become a worthy knight and proper heir to House Arryn. In an amusing sense, Artys was going to see Lysa's vision of Robert come true, though he doubts she would agree with that.

With that business now out of the way, Artys turned his mind to the past, or more specifically, Cersei Lannister. She had approached him days earlier during a Silent Sister ceremony, publicly to offer her condolences but only a fool would ever believe the public persona Cersei had. Their conversation started out normal enough, condolences and grief were exchanged. Cersei said that, as per tradition, Artys had been named the new Warden of the East. She then approached the topic of Jon's last days, something that was immediately suspicious since Cersei had no reason to inquire about that.

Artys knew that he had to tread carefully if Cersei was interested in his father's last days alive, it wasn't because she cared at all. He had informed Lyonel of everything that preceded his father's death and sudden illness, and Lyonel had declared certain details off limits to anyone that Artys did not trust. Cersei fit that description perfectly. But still, she was the Queen and Artys could not avoid an order from her without drawing suspicion. So he informed her of his father's last words.

'The Seed is strong.' Artys recalled.

Strange last words to say the least, but Artys felt comfortable in telling Cersei that as Grand Maester Pycelle had taken over his father's treatment and had been present when Jon began muttering those words. What Artys left out was that an hour before Jon died he began muttering Lyonel's name, both Artys and Lyonel found this the most strange thing said by Jon. Lyonel did not know why Jon was so focused on him, but as a precaution he had Artys omit what had happened. Artys also took it upon himself to omit the events leading up to his father's death. Like Jon and Stannis Baratheon sneaking out of the castle in the dead of night, or feigning illness and then sneaking out of the Red Keep. Both schemes that Artys accidentally stumbled upon for one reason or another, though Stannis nor Jon ever noticed that Artys had seen them leave the Red Keep.

Then he overheard his father talking to Stannis one night in the office of the Hand, Artys had gone there as his father had promised to eat dinner with the rest of his family that evening. The door was ajar just enough that Artys could look through the crack with one eye and listen in on what was being said. Stannis and Jon were both too caught up with their conversation to notice their eavesdropper.

Phrases such as "...Bastard...", "...looks just like him.", "The book is telling the truth." and "Only one child is legitimate." were thrown around. Though Artys could not hear any more than that, nor could he gleam the context for such words. Artys hadn't even told Lyonel about what he heard, it was too strange to inform the prince without gaining the context for the situation.

Satisfied with his response Queen Cersei departed from that topic and switched to another one of fewer suspicions before she eventually left. Artys's mind was spinning from everything that was happening, he could tell that he was digging himself into something far greater than himself but just didn't know what it was. Artys decided to rest and return to the topic another time.

In the coming days, the Royal court would depart for Winterfell so King Robert could name Eddard Stark the Hand of the King in person. Artys elected to go with them, in order to spend as much time with Lyonel as he could, and on the return trip leave for the Eyrie. He decided that now would be a good opportunity to introduce Lyonel to House Stark, in order to gain their support for his coup. Though Artys doubts Lord Stark would ever go through with such a thing, he seemed too honorable to ever depose Joffrey from the throne. Even if the Crown Prince was a madman.

* * *

**Tyene Sand**

It had only taken a single day of discussion with Viserys Targaryen and Illyrio Mopatis for Tyene and Obara to be accepted into the Targaryens service, Tyene suspected that Viserys was so happy that somebody from Westeros was here to pledge themselves to his cause that he ignored common sense. So he threw caution to the wind and took the two ladies with open arms. Rhaella's crown only sweetened the deal that Tyene suspected would have passed regardless of whether or not the sisters had brought it. In any event, Tyene was now a handmaiden to Daenerys Targaryen while Obara was sworn to defend and obey Viserys. However, Viserys spent more time with Tyene, a handmaiden in service of his sister, rather than Obara, his new bodyguard.

Viserys had called her the fairest lady he had ever seen, Tyene thought to her self that Visery's comment could be attributed to the fact that Viserys has never really seen a person of Andal descent. Tyene had inherited her mother's looks, a septa in Oldtown, but Viserys ignored the fact that Tyene had her father's mind. Tyene had been the one to handle the talks with Viserys and had been the one to come up with their backstory. Tyene claimed that after years of secretly wishing for a Targaryen restoration the sisters just couldn't take it anymore and simply had to restore the mighty Targaryens and see Viserys as the shining king they knew he would be. Viserys seemed like the kind of man who could be manipulated by stroking his ego, he carried himself as an entitled man. And Viserys proved Tyene right by instantly welcoming Obara and Tyene after she said her backstory and other compliments towards Viserys.

He decided that a delicate lady such as Tyene would be better off serving his sister Daenerys then seeing the nasty business a king must get into in order to win back their crown. Tyene had obeyed, and for a week has been taking care of Daenerys. In that time Tyene has run into Viserys multiple times, and in every encounter, he had a look in his eye. Tyene recognized the look, it was the same look her father had given many women over the years. Tyene was not stupid, men often lusted after women they considered beautiful and often acted upon that lust. Viserys was like many other men in that regard, he found a foreign beauty and now his cock is dictating he claim that beauty. Viserys was also unmarried and not promised to any woman, so it was reasonable that he would pursue an affair. Still, that did not endear Viserys to Tyene. As much as Tyene loved sex, she doubted she would love whatever she did with Viserys.

So she turned her attention to the much more pleasant Targaryen, Daenerys. Her job, specifically, was to observe Daenerys. But Tyene felt she could be a bit more liberal with her assignment. She wanted to probe Daenerys and see what characteristics the young woman possessed. With that in mind, Tyene carried several books on Westeros's history to Daenerys's chambers in Illyrio's Pentos palace. She knocked on the door to Daenerys's bedchamber and opened it.

"My Lady, I hope I'm not interrupting anything. I have some books here and I felt we could read them together." Tyene said to the young Targaryen sitting on her balcony.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

I originally planned for this chapter to include more Sand Snake story, but I've instead opted to do that in the next chapter.


	5. Prologue: Serving the Dragons

**Tyene Sand**

Hours had passed after Tyene had sat down to read with Daenerys, though to Tyene it felt like that time passed in the blink of an eye. It wasn't the book that Tyene was reading, a book about the War of the Ninepenny Kings, that engaged Tyene so much, it was the dragon that sat across from her. Daenerys wasn't even doing anything remarkable, just reading. The ability to read was something that surprised Tyene since she knew that Daenerys had spent her entire life on the run. Tyene never expected that Daenerys got any sort of education, but it seems that her assumption was wrong. It appears that Viserys found the time and resources to have his sister educated, though it's likely not to the same degree that previous Targaryen children would have been. It's also likely to assume that the Targaryen siblings are well educated in Valyrian, as Targaryen children are educated as soon as they are born in the Valyrian language and given Viserys's age when he fled Westeros it stands to reason that he possesses a high degree of Valyrian education. He must have also passed on that knowledge to Daenerys, Viserys is a prideful man and he would want his only living relative and heir to be well versed in the language of their ancestors. And given their time in the Freeholds, they must be familiar with the lower Valyrian used throughout Essos.

All this gleamed in the weeks since Tyene entered the service of Daenerys. The princess is a guarded individual, she uses an emotionless mask in her everyday life. Tyene supposed that a life of being on the run from assassins and mercenaries can cause one to be on guard all the time, though Danerys held this mask even in the presence of her brother. Thus far their interactions have not given Tyene any information about the siblings, however, it did not bode well for Viserys that his own sister was guarded in his presence. In any event, the mask that Danerys uses rarely falls on any occasion. Tyene had to present herself as friendly and non-threatening in order to gain the trust of Daenerys. All Tyene had to do was present herself as a friend, a task not difficult given that Tyene wanted to be friends with the princess. She's a kind person who's had to grow up in less than ideal circumstances yet she still retains that kindness, Tyene couldn't help but admire that and this compelled her to be friends with Daenerys.

Another observation Tyene had made in the time that she's been in Daenerys's service was that she was a person of contradictions. She possed a certain level of strength yet was weak to her brother. She had an interesting mind and yet she constantly deferred to others in decision making, letting them take away any freedom she had. Daenerys had within her a great capacity for kindness and empathy, but if it comes down to it she can be more ruthless than some of her ancestors who sat on the Iron Throne. Tyene recalled an instant when Daenerys saw a hawk attempting to eat some sea turtle eggs that were just hatching, she beat it away with a nearby piece of driftwood when it tried to go for the babies. Despite it attacking her when she saved those sea turtle hatchlings, she stood her ground and showed no fear. Instances such as those showed that Daenerys had the ruthless quality that many monarchs would need. Only time will tell if that ruthlessness is an early sign of a mad Targaryen or a great one.

Still, Daenerys intrigued Tyene to no end and she couldn't help but feel drawn into the ever-growing fascination Tyene had for her. Like now, as Tyene watched Daenerys read her book. This was one of the few moments where Tyene could see that Daenerys's mask had dropped, leaving behind a woman who was completely engaged by her activity. Daenerys reached the last paged and placed the book down, yawning and rubbing her eyes.

"I take it the Dance of Dragons and Rhaenyra Targaryen was a fascinating topic to read about. It's been hours since you've picked up that book." Tyene said.

"In a way." She responded with.

"Oh?" Tyene asked, her curiosity piqued.

Daenerys got out of her chair and placed her book on a table as if she was weighing how much information to tell Tyene, her mask back up. "It's no secret that I was forced to flee Westeros days after I was born. As such I never really knew my House, it's history and culture. Reading it now, I was drawn like a moth to a flame. I'm an outsider to my own House, but this book brought me a step closer to my ancestors. All that I've lost and all that I could have, I've been given a taste of that from this book."

Tyene sensed that Daenerys wanted to go on further, that she wanted to not only elaborate but talk on other topics the book inspired within her. But Tyene did not want to push Daenerys, she was still working on building up the trust between them and trust is so easily lost.

"Excuse me, my Lady, but I will need those books back. My sister doesn't look like it but she does enjoy the occasional read." Tyene started to pick up the various books she had left sprawled around Daenerys's bedchamber and throw them into her bag that she carried the books in.

Daenerys looked startled and disappointed but accepted that her time with the books was over. Tyene curtsied and left Daenerys, a feeling of accomplishment fell over her as she walked calmly away.

* * *

**Obara Sand**

Obara stood with her spear in a stone archway that acted as the entrance to one of many gardens in Illyrio Mopatis's palace. Viserys chose this garden, one reminiscent of the Water Gardens in Dorne, as a secret meeting spot. Obara could only roll her eyes at the notion that Viserys was being secretive, by this point anyone with a half-decent spy network in Westeros would know that Viserys was staying with Illyrio Mopatis. And the Small Council is served by two of the most cunning men in the Seven Kingdoms, Varys and Littlefinger. Obara had no doubt that despite Illyrio's extensive efforts to stamp out spies in his servants, some had managed to slip through the cracks. After all, Obara and her sister were serving the Targaryens themselves. Why no one at this point hadn't sent assassins to kill the last remaining Targaryens was beyond Obara. Though perhaps it was because Illyrio was a powerful magistrate in the society of Pentos, the Baratheons might not want to anger a powerful Free City like Pentos by killing the guests of a key magistrate. Whatever the reason may be, Obara would leave that kind of thinking to more politically astute people like Tyene.

Currently, Viserys had her posted at the only entrance to the garden. Her orders were to not let anyone through the entrance, no matter who they are. Obara chuckled to herself at that. If Viserys truly wanted his meeting guarded and secret, then he would have posted more guards. As it stands, a single guard at a single entrance is a tactical blunder. Obara is one person, unable to watch every corner or stretch of land that surrounded the garden. A spy need only to hop over some low walls and plants and they would suddenly be able to listen in on the conversation that Viserys wanted so desperately to keep secret.

'The more he does, the more incompetent he proves himself to be. He might have a drop of madness, but I would sooner attribute that to a lack of brain than to his inbred ancestors.' Obara thought.

Behind Obara, the loud clops of a horse echoed up the archway. Obara turned around to see a man riding on a horse with a curved sword attached to his hip. Obara recognized the man from the stories her father had told her, a Dothraki rider. Obara stepped out of the archway and off to the side, the Dothraki ignored her and continued to trot along until he was past the archway, where he then broke to a dash on his horse. Obara watched as the man and horse left a trail of sand floating in the air before they disappeared into the distance. Viserys and Illyrio soon emerged from the garden, with Viserys looking particularly happy.

"Your Grace." Obara curtsied before Viserys.

"Arise, Obara Sand, we have much preparation to do." Viserys said, gesturing his hand upwards.

"Your Grace?" Obara questioned.

"Khal Drogo wants a foreign wife and what better wife can there be but one with the Blood of Old Valyria. In exchange for my sister, Khal Drogo will give me an army. My reign will begin soon, I promise that Obara." Viserys had a mad glint in his eye, a glint that unnerved Obara to her very core.

She had to tell her uncle, Doran Martell, of this immediately, a Targaryen restoration might be heading towards Westeros sooner than anyone expected.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Sorry this took so long, a combination of writer's block and real life prevented me from updating but now I can.

At this point, we are out of the prologue phase and are about to enter the core story. At this point, I'll be borrowing both from the show and the books, but as we get further into this the books will become more prevalent. Next chapter we'll be jumping back across the Narrow Sea, so enjoy that.

And please review, it helps a lot.

Until Next Time


	6. Chapter 1: The Defiance

**Lyonel**

Duskendale, such a simple name for a devious history. It's been said that the Mad King lost the last bit of his sanity here, held hostage by House Darklyn and Hollard under torturous conditions for half a year. Only Ser Barristan Selmy, a knight of the Kingsguard, rescued Aerys and ended what would become known as the Defiance of Duskendale. Vengeance was swift on the rebelling houses, horrors inflicted upon them that maesters dare not repeat in the history books. All they could do was write down the fact that King Aerys tortured and executed all of House Darklyn and Hollard, save for one Hollard boy on the request of Ser Barristan.

And now House Rykker rules Duskendale, a land whose very name is synonymous with horrific acts. They say you can still hear the screams of those Aerys punished, much like the ghosts of Harrenhal, some of them have spotted spectral images of a flayed woman urging people to kill the Targaryens or a little boy apologizing for pulling Aerys's beard. Lyonel found it unnerving, being in the castle where the course of Aerys's reign was solidified and where the fall of House Darklyn and Hollard took place. He tossed and turned in the bed provided for him in the Dun Fort, a bed made out of silk and placed in a spacious room reserved for members of the royal family.

King Robert was traveling north to Winterfell to name Eddard Stark Hand of the King, a journey that would take months to complete. Lyonel had seen only a handful of times when his father was genuinely interested and performed the duties of a king, though Lyonel guessed that it had more to do with seeing his surrogate brother rather than finding a competent Hand. Lyonel personally would have chosen his grandfather, Tywin Lannister, rather than Eddard as Tywin had proven himself a capable Hand and a feared Lord throughout Westeros. Lyonel was sure that Eddard would make a fine Hand and all, it's just that Eddard Stark is an honorable man and honorable men have noticeably short lives in the south.

Still, it was his father's choice and Lyonel would abide by it. Robert could have done worse, someone like Walder Frey or Balon Greyjoy could be chosen as Hand. Lyonel's stomach turned at the possibilities of what those men would do. They, however, were far away from ever gaining that kind of power and the lords of Westeros already distrusted them so they ever got power, it would be near impossible to enforce. But Lyonel knew of one boy who would have both the power and the trust of the lords of Westeros, Joffrey Baratheon.

Joffrey is a relatively unknown player on the wider political stage of the rest of Westeros, barring the capital because Joffrey's actions such as butchering Tommen's cat was already known to the nobles of King's Landing. To those outside the capital, he was a handsome boy and heir to the Iron Throne. People tend to look at those face value qualities and imprint them onto Joffrey as if the titles and physical features spoke true of him. Lyonel mused that he need only to put Joffrey and another person in a room together and an hour later that person would be strangeling Joffrey, imaging that scenario made Lyonel laugh as he lay on his bed.

'Joffrey has this remarkable ability to turn strangers into mortal enemies, maybe I should just call off the coup and let Joffrey do his work'

Lyonel was half tempted to do just that, after all, a coup wasn't the best means of achieving power and it was going to put his family in danger. He wasn't concerned with Joffrey, Lyonel's main concern was his mother. Cersei, is not the best person in the world, to say the least, but she's always been a loving and attentive mother to her children, even if she did play favorites with Joffrey. Lyonel knew that if he were to go up against his brother, Cersei's heart would break. However, if Joffrey rules then the realm would bleed, there's no doubt about that. So if the Seven Kingdoms is to avert disaster then Joffrey must be removed from the throne, even if it means hurting his mother.

And there stood a problem, Lyonel would need the support of the major lords of Westeros. He's seen the history books, civil wars such as the Dance of Dragons or The First Blackfyre rebellion occurred because neither monarchs had the full support of Westeros. Imagine what would have happened if the oaths that were taken that Rhaenyra be made Queen were followed through, the Targaryens might still have their dragons and so many wars could have been avoided. Or if everyone believed the rumors that Daeron the Second was a bastard and instead followed Daemon Blackfyre.

Lyonel has already made great strides with the Great Houses. Olenna Redwyne, the true power behind House Tyrell for the last few decades, has promised to support him if he marries Margaery Tyrell. And since the Tyrells have their vines wrapped around Uncle Renly they'll tell him to support his nephew's bid for the throne, which brings the Stormlands onto Lyonel's side. The Vale was already on his side thanks to Artys, so Lyonel didn't concentrate on that kingdom. The Westerlands were surprisingly easy to figure out, the one thing that Tywin Lannister desires above all else is Jaime restored to the position of heir to Casterly Rock and the Westerlands. Simply releasing uncle Jaime from the Kingsguard would earn Tywin's support in Lyonel's bid for the throne. And all Lyonel needs for Dorne's support is to make certain concessions involving people who won't be missed once Lyonel is on the throne.

The only wall Lyonel was running into in regards to gathering support is the North and Eddard Stark. The honorability of Eddard Stark is the main quality that Robert praised his friend for having, a loyal man through and through. It would be hard to convince Lord Stark to support Lyonel's cause, especially since he has no reason to support Lyonel. And to add fuel to the fire, from an outsider's point of view, it was a younger brother trying to usurp power from the older brother.

"A tale as old as the First Men themselves." Uncle Tyrion would often say.

Eddard Stark was the key to Lyonel's whole plan, with his support Lyonel would have the North, Riverlands and the Iron Islands behind him. Yet he could not find a way to win over Eddard Stark, he thought about invoking the memory of the Mad King but Joffrey would not demonstrate those characteristics in front of the Warden of the North so it would be Lyonel's word versus Joffrey's. Not a good match as Joffrey has more credibility as Crown Prince. Frustrated and unable to fall asleep Lyonel tossed off his sheets, got dressed and headed out into the wider castle.

'I'll have to ask Artys in the morning if he has any advice. He's spent more time with Catelyn Stark, Eddard's wife, so maybe he can give me some insights into this dilemma. Catelyn isn't a perfect solution, but it is a place to start.' Lyonel thought.

Cool air brushed Lyonel's face as he stepped out into the main courtyard of the Dun Fort. Lyonel couldn't help but feel a strong force of resentment at the sight of the courtyard, though it was directed towards the occupant of the castle rather than the building itself. The responsibility of Lyonel's mood fell to House Rykker and their actions. Like any House when hosting the royal family House Rykker wanted to gain favor during the king's stay, doing everything to ingratiate themselves. At first, it was fine. But after a while, being followed by low intelligent rats can get annoying. Lyonel lost count over how many times he wanted privacy only to be interrupted by a Rykker cousin. That's one of the problems of being a prince, everyone wants something from you and is never genuine about themselves. It can be a lonely existence as few people want to be friends, though the same can be said of the aristocracy as a whole, at least with lords there's a likely chance that any attempt at friendship is genuine, compared to the royal family where it's near impossible.

Lyonel spotted a hooded man approaching him from the other side of the courtyard, as the man got closer Lyonel let his guard drop. Soon the man's face came into the light and Lyonel could see it, confirming the person's identity.

"Hello Ser Orlin, little late for my sworn shield to be wandering about." Lyonel said.

"I'm only wandering because I've been informed by Lord Rykker that Prince Lyonel was discovered missing from his bedchambers." Orlin said, a smirk on his face as he did.

"Of course, I can't take a shit in this forsaken castle without the Lord Rykker waking the entire staff for fear of my health." Lyonel bitterly gestured around the courtyard.

"I would have thought that someone of your noble birth enjoyed being pampered." Orlin let out a barely audible chuckle, but Lyonel heard it.

"Why in seven hells would I enjoy this, you of all people should know...wait, you're enjoying my suffering aren't you."

"Me, never!" Orlin placed his hand on his chest in mock horror, imitating a wounded man.

Lyonel moved to slap Orlin, but the knight caught his hand. Lyonel then burst out laughing, followed by Orlin. Orlin took a pouch from his belt and opened a lid at the top before he handed the pouch to Lyonel. Lyonel accepted the pouch and took one massive sip of ale.

"Something to help you through these troubling times." Orlin dramatically knelt when Lyonel handed back the pouch, earning more laughter from the prince.

"Much appreciated, though if my mother found out she would have your head. My father would probably laugh and take you out for a night of drinking and whoring in King's Landing." Lyonel said.

"Probably why your mother hates me, if not for the fact that I saved your life she would have banished me Westeros by now. For a hedge knight should never be in the company of a prince." Orlin imitated Cersei as he finished speaking.

Lyonel smiled, holding back a burst of intense laughter. If Orlin performed this behavior in any other audience other than the private one of Lyonel, the Queen would have called for his head. But Orlin was smarter than that, he kept these types of antics to private interactions and displayed a dutiful, if an ambitious, personality in public. The perfect appearance for a hedge knight, one of service and of wanting that service to be rewarded so he can rise above his low-birth background. Though Lyonel knew that it was all a front, a lie needed to deceive the court.

Lyonel knew only that Orlin's public persona and private were different people, but beyond that Lyonel could only guess. However, a lifetime of growing up in King's Landing has allowed Lyonel the sense that when interacting with himself that Orlin was genuine. For that Lyonel was fond of Orlin and thought of him as a trusted friend and confidant.

Though still, a hedge knight as the sworn shield of a prince was not a celebrated matter despite the fact that the Hound was the sworn shield for the Crown Prince. Ordinarily, a hedge knight would be rejected from serving a prince on the grounds that hedge knights did not have the lands or ancient blood that most other knights do, but an exception was made for Orlin. On one of father's many hunting trips, Lyonel got lost while pursuing a deer. He was ambushed by a group of bandits who knew of the king's frequent hunts into the woods, and they wanted to ransom Lyonel. Fortunately, Orlin came charging at the bandits and slaughter the ill-equipped and poorly trained bandits. A nearby village had fell victim to the bandits and hired Orlin to hunt them down, which is why he was in the woods that day.

Lyonel saw the man fight, he was trained by a castle's master-at-arms, that much was certain about his fighting style but when Lyonel pressed Orlin for answers he would not respond. When King Robert found the two he was overjoyed and told Orlin that he would grant him anything he desired, Orlin named his desire to serve the royal family. It was then that Lyonel stepped forward and requested that Orlin be named his sworn shield, an idea supported by both Robert and Orlin. When Cersei heard of what happened, even she allowed a hedge knight to continue to protect her son.

"I think that ale has calmed me a bit. I might finally be able to sleep peacefully if anyone in House Rykker has half a brain." Lyonel said.

Orlin escorted him back to his bedchambers and left to go drink more ale in a secluded spot. Despite Lyonel's claims that the ale from earlier had calmed, his mind still wandered to Lord Eddard Stark. One way or another he will get the North, that's a promise. With this determination in mind, Lyonel fell asleep in the castle that he disliked so much.


	7. Chapter 2: Winterfell

**Lyonel POV**

Father had often told Lyonel of the vast landscape of the North, a harsh but beautiful world that hardened it's people to adversity and fostered cooperation and honor among them. He also said that their honorability made them hard to control to those they considered to be treacherous, chief among them the king who sits on the Iron Throne. Loyal to their own, that's what Robert often said about the North. Which made it all the more crucial to get Eddard Stark onto Lyonel's side, the northerners are loyal only to them and attempting to change that will create a catastrophe. Sure you can get away with installing a loyal family for a handful of years but eventually, that family would get overthrown, the Houses of the North have a long memory when it comes to those who betray them. And their justice is swift and merciless.

The royal procession was currently moving through what was known as Winter's Town, a village located just outside the castle Winterfell. Lyonel recalled from the history books he read that the Starks built Winter's Town to support the commoners who shifted away from their homes when they became uninhabitable during the harsh winters of the North. This action and many others like it earned the love and support of the commoners for House Stark, yet another reason Lyonel needed them on his side. Looking out onto the faces of the people gathering around the road from on top of his horse, Lyonel could tell that the people living here were a lot better off than the people of King's Landing. Their faces had more color and life in it, as opposed to King's Landing where despair and greed knawed at a man until only a beast remained.

Among the crowd, Lyonel spotted a quick movement. A girl with a soldier's helmet was running away from the main road and towards the castle, what was more intriguing was the dress the girl wore. It was not uncommon for veterans of the various wars in Westeros to bring back trophies or equipment to their families, allowing children to act out the tales of gallant knights and mighty kings, but they don't typically bring back dresses meant for highborn ladies. From just a glance Lyonel could tell that the fabric was of a higher quality than a commoner's dress. Lyonel didn't want to jump to any conclusions but all the evidence he had all led to back to one House.

'This will certainly be an interesting visit.'

Lyonel continued with the rest of the caravan, he rode a little faster to catch up his father who was now riding on horseback. As he approached he saw Joffrey on a horse of his own, shifting uncomfortably in the saddle. It was clear to the casual observer that Joffrey was not a rider, Lyonel could count on one hand where he saw Joffrey ride a horse. Most of the time Joffrey traveled in a wheelhouse, and unless their father insisted that Joffrey be on a horse for appearance's sake, he would not leave the wheelhouse. Lyonel could only roll his eyes, a prince shouldn't be pampered yet that's what happens to Joffrey every time without fail. Lyonel shifted his gaze off of his brother and onto his father. where Lyonel could only hold in his laughter at the situation his father was in. The horse he was currently riding was struggling to hold up the enormous weight of the king, it stumbled every so often and its breathing was heavy and loud. Lyonel wasn't sure what his father was thinking but he found it hilarious, the king is too fat for his horse.

Lyonel found himself going through the gates of Winterfell and into its courtyard, where he found House Stark waiting for the Royal family. Lyonel took his place beside Joffrey, to denote his place as second in line, while Joffrey took his place as the Crown Prince next to the King. The brothers waited for their father to dismount, him needing help to get off his horse. A man stepped forward and knelt before Robert, Lyonel could only assume that the man is Eddard Stark.

"You've gotten fat." Robert said, loudly enough for the entire courtyard to hear. Several people looked nervously at Eddard and Robert, particularly the Stark children.

Rolling his eyes was the usual response Lyonel gave to his father's humor, having been exposed to it his entire life. Though he wasn't entirely sure how Lord Stark would react, from the way his father talked about his friend one could assume that no offense was taken but Lyonel had never met the man so he couldn't be certain. Lord Stark gestured down at the king's belly, pointing out Robert's weight. The atmosphere dropped from trepid nervousness to ice-cold fear, but a moment later both men burst into laughter and the atmosphere lifted itself. Robert signaled for his sons to dismount their horses and approach, with the queen and their younger children following soon after.

"Take me to crypts, Ned, I want to show my respects," Robert said.

We've been rising for a month my love," Cersei said in her usually icy tone. "Surely the dead can wait."

Robert ignored her and dragged Lord Stark into the castle and towards the crypts. The crowd dispersed, with the servants hurrying away to finish any last-minute work for the specials guests that just arrived. Lyonel handed the reigns of his horse to a stable boy while he observed the Stark children, they all seemed to be a happy family and that intrigued Lyonel to no end. The eldest, Robb, was a son and heir all the lords sought after as he looked strong and determined with a fierce air about him. He seemed to be enjoying the presence of his younger siblings, something unheard of as young siblings could mean potential challenges to ruling or rebellion. The next child was the eldest daughter, Sansa, who inherited her mother's fire like hair. She was perhaps the sibling he had most pinned down, he saw her starring at Joffrey earlier, son one can only assume she's been raised on stories of maidens and handsome knights. Girls are usually like that until they reach the real world and discover the monster that lurks beneath some men.

The youngest sons, Brand and Rickon, Lyonel decided not to observe as they were still young and growing, though he could only assume they treated the rest of their siblings with the same kindness and joy as their elders. Though the youngest daughter did catch Lyonel's attention, he recognized her dress and movements as the same girl from before. Lyonel made a mental note to investigate further, it wasn't critical to his plans but it was interesting and interesting was so hard to come by. Artys approached from behind, having been with the rest of his men behind the royal part of the procession.

"Are you ready? I can get you an audience with Lady Stark now."

Lyonel was about to respond when he saw a figure move out of the corner of his eye, he turned a saw a young man move towards the Stark children. Lyonel almost did a double-take, the young man was almost a spitting image of Eddard Stark. All the other Stark children, except for Arya, had inherited features from their Tully mother. But this man here looked more Stark than Robb Stark.

"Jon Snow." Lyonel muttered.

He had heard rumors of the Bastard of Winterfell, how he looked more Stark than the true-born children and the tension he caused between the Lord and Lady Stark. Other rumors such as Ashara Dayne being Jon's mother also found their way to the capital, or perhaps it was a whore in some far off tavern that was Jon's mother.

"No," Artys looked confused from Lyonel's response. "I just found something interesting."

Lyonel gestured for Orlin to come over to him after he did Lyonel said, "How would you like a tour from the Bastard of Winterfell and his brother the heir of House Stark?"


	8. Chapter 3: A Wolf's Fury and Bond

**Author's Notes**

Sorry this has been so long, but the season 8 finale took a lot out of me. Here's the latest chapter, and thanks to all who are reading my crazy story.

* * *

**Lyonel**

The first thing Lyonel noticed about Jon Snow was his Northern features, as opposed to his half-siblings whose features were dominantly Southern. Except, perhaps, the youngest daughter, Arya, and if her actions earlier were any indication, she held the same rebellious personality most Northerners were rumored to have. Starks, a curious bunch where the only children to share their father's features were a single daughter and a bastard. If this was any other family, Lyonel would have suspected infidelity on the part of the wife, but Catelyn Tully, despite coming from the south, held honor on par with the people of the North.

Lyonel found the whole situation humorous, normally Lyonel would be grim at the possible implication of bastard children would have on the nobles of a region and the common people who would eventually be caught up in the eventual succession wars that would follow, but here, Lyonel didn't have to worry about that. For the Starks were honorable, and that gave Lyonel a sense of security, that the future of the North was a stable and peaceful one.

His musings on the Stark children carried Lyonel to the topic of his thoughts. He and Artys reached the Stark children, who stood at attention in the presence of a royal. Lyonel waved his hand back at Artys, indicating he'll handle the introductions.

"Greetings, I am Prince Lyonel Baratheon."

Robb stepped forward and started to introduce himself, "My name is Robb Stark, these are my..."

"I know who you are, who all of you are. Part of my education was to learn and memorize all the lords of Westeros and their heirs, especially House Stark, I…" Lyonel trailed off when he saw Artys make a face, then he realized he was being rude.

Lyonel bowed slightly before Robb before he raised his head back up while displaying shame on his face.

"I am deeply sorry for my actions, I let myself get carried away. When you get to be a prince in the capital people start to spin sweet lies to you, and I'm afraid old habits, combined with a long journey to get here, have worn me down. It's not an excuse for behavior, so please accept my humblest apologies."

Robb looked shocked and confused, but he forced himself to speak.

"I-I accept your apology, Your Grace," he said.

At this, Lyonel cracked a smile, "Please, Your Grace is my mother or father. Just call me Lyonel when there are no adults around, Prince Lyonel when there are."

Robb smiled back, "And you can call me Robb, whether our fathers are around or not."

"Awful amount of trust to place in me," Lyonel responded.

"I don't see it like that, I see it was the first step in trust." Robb continued to smile at Lyonel as if he didn't realize what he just did.

It wasn't the name itself that bothered him, it was the trust that the name entailed. With any titles or formalities, a name meant a close bond between people. Ordinarily, Lyonel would be thrilled that such a bond had formed, after all, it meant that he was one step closer to getting the Starks on board for his plans. However, it betrayed a fatal flaw the heir to Winterfell had.

_'He trusts too easily, far too easily. Men like Robb thrive in certain elements. The south, and my Coup, in particular, are not those elements.'_ Lyonel felt a swirl of conflicting emotions over this revelation.

Dragging Lyonel out of his thoughts was the bastard of Winterfell, who was trying to slip away unnoticed. Remembering that Jon Snow was part of the reason he was with the Stark children right now, Lyonel made a move to stop him.

"Jon Snow, could you stay here?" Lyonel asked, trying to imbue enough genuine emotion so that he didn't sound cold, but also held back so that he didn't come as overeager.

"My Prince, I'm not sure a bastard like myself is worthy of being your presence." Jon stared at the ground as if he was afraid of making eye contact with Lyonel.

Lyonel tried to speak but ended up staring down a very angry Arya. "Listen here, Prince Lyonel, I don't care if you're royalty or not, you won't mess with my brother. So if you're just going to insult or humiliate him, then you'll have to deal with me!" Arya yelled with a ferocity rivaling that of a wolf.

The atmosphere tensed up, going from lukewarm to freezing cold. Robb looked unsure if he should intervene, though he looked ready to jump to the defense of his sister. Sansa covered her mouth and was glaring at Arya, while Jon stepped forward, tense and ready for a fight.

This all reversed when, much to the Stark children's surprise, Lyonel started laughing and clutching his sides.

"I can see the Starks live up to their sigil, quite interesting. Forgive, Arya, I meant no harm to your brother. I simply wished to discuss swordplay with him, his skills have reached King's Landing and I wanted to see if they were true or just exaggerated rumors." That was a lie, Lyonel wanted to investigate Jon's mother, hear about the woman who made even Eddard Stark forget his honor, but he had to back off of that lest he risks alienating the Starks.

That seemed to calm Arya down, but there was still fire lit in her eyes that threatened to burn Lyonel at the slightest provocation. Sansa rushed over, grabbed Arya, mumbled something about Septa lessons, and rushed off with Arya. Robb approached Lyonel, his eyes shining with warmth over the prince's reaction to both Jon and Arya.

"Lyonel, it would be an honor if I could escort you around the keep. And Jon can join if you want," Robb said.

"You both go on ahead, I have some matters to discuss with Artys."

Robb and Jon left, leaving Lyonel to stare blankly off into the distance.

"What's the real reason you didn't go with them?" Artys hesitantly approached Lyonel.

"They love each other, they love each other. Even Jon Snow, they love him as if he was a trueborn," a single tear rolled Lyonel's eye, "I've never seen love like that, it's fierce and protective. The way that Robb and Jon were about to defend Arya, and the way that Arya was protecting Jon. Joffrey would never do that for me, my older brother doesn't love me."

Lyonel let another set of tears roll down his eyes before he composed himself and followed Jon and Robb deeper into Winterfell. His focus on the Stark family transition from a political to a personal one, Lyonel attempted to quell newfound feelings and turmoil within him to no avail. Like it or not, he was now emotionally tied to the Starks.

* * *

**Artys**

Artys sat with a handful of Valeman who accompanied him on his journey to Winterfell. He sent the majority of the House Arryn men to escort Lysa and Robert to The Eyrie, and to ensure that his orders were carried out once his "mother" got to the castle. But the company he did keep filled the void that he would have otherwise felt being separated from Lyonel at the Stark banquet that was held in honor of the royal family.

He spotted his friend seated at the high table, next to Joffrey, eating his food rather unpleasantly. Artys mused that it was the close proximity to Joffrey that was currently spoiling Lyonel right now. However, given Artys's current drunken state he was in no position to help him. He took a deep draft of his wine, much to the cheer of his men, and finished it in one gulp.

Suddenly feeling the need to gather some fresh air, Artys excused himself from the table.

"Sorry boys, have to go. But a gold stag to whoever can drink Carson under."

He left the table, letting the loud roars of the challenges mask the sound of his footsteps as he left the hall. Artys wasn't a drunk by any means, but he had quite a bit of alcohol up till this point. Artys cursed under his breath, he should act calm and collected, a manner befitting the new Warden of the East and close companion of Lyonel. Though with the behavior of King Robert, Artys mused his own behavior went unnoticed. Still, he would collect himself so he would never do this kind of reckless act ever again.

Feelings of grief were still raw, Artys had yet to properly process his father's death with all the things that had happened recently. Alcohol was a way through that, but not the proper way. It clashed with his identity as a warrior, made him feel he sullied his honor. His actions fought against his integrity, it the exact wake-up call he needed. Artys would have to put aside some time to grieve his father, then he could resume his life.

He looked back into the hall, seeing Catelyn still at the dinner table. Despite only meeting a handful of times, Catelyn was still more of a mother to Artys than Lysa ever was, perhaps she could help him through his feelings so he could sooner return to Lyonel's side. At least, that was part of the reason he wanted to go to her, the other being, he wanted to bask in her motherly love that he so rarely ever experienced. Maybe that was another reason he was drawn to Lyonel, he never felt a sibling's love, while Artys never felt a mother's love. Yet more similarities that intertwined the two.

"Look there's a lot more men here with 'orses than usual. And 'orses need hay to feed them."

Artys looked over and saw two servants arguing next to a large wagon of hay.

"I know, but Lord Bran likes to climb this tower."

"If he doesn't like it, he can take it up with his parents. I have orders to keep these 'orses healthy and that's exactly what I'm going to do."

Artys continued on from that conversation, passing by Tyrion Lannister and Jon Snow talking.


End file.
